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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26778484">A Very Unexpected Development</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Earlgreyer/pseuds/Earlgreyer'>Earlgreyer</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Oh My Lord of the Rings [1]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>The Lord of the Rings (Movies), The Lord of the Rings - All Media Types, The Lord of the Rings - J. R. R. Tolkien</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Anal Sex, Assumed Unrequited Love, Enthusiastic Consent, Feelings, Fluff and Smut, Friendship/Love, Hand Jobs, Idiots in Love, Love Confessions, M/M, Oral Sex, Pining, eventual Porn with Feelings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-10-02</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-11-28</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 04:48:38</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>3</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>8,435</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/26778484</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Earlgreyer/pseuds/Earlgreyer</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Faramir has been silently pining for Éomer for years.  Éomer has been oblivious.  Or that AU no one asked for, where Éomer and Faramir both met long before the war.  Because I said so.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Éomer Éadig/Faramir (Son of Denethor II)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Oh My Lord of the Rings [1]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/2066184</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>34</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>62</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Excuse me, WHAT?</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“The night should remain pleasant.”  A gentle breeze, slightly warmer than was typical for so early in spring, ruffled Éomer’s hair and made the flames of the campfire dance.  “Perfect for stargazing.”   </p><p>Faramir had little basis on which to comment, as all of his attention had been, and still was, focused on Éomer.  To look elsewhere would have caused him mortal pain and required more strength of will than he possessed.  It had been far too many weeks since they’d last encountered each other, and Faramir felt like a dying man suddenly gifted with renewed life.</p><p>He possessed no delusions that Éomer felt anything more than friendship for him, though his sleeping mind believed otherwise.  More nights than not, his dreams were of cozy, blanket-draped evenings in front of the hearth; Éomer’s strong arms holding him with impossible tenderness, soft lips caressing his own, bodies joined in passionate love.  Faramir would wake with an ache in his heart and a yearning for what he knew he could never have.  </p><p>If by some miracle Éomer returned his feelings, nothing could come of it.  Éomer; handsome, brilliant, charismatic Éomer, was destined for the throne of Rohan, and a partner better suited to enhance such a position.  Faramir was a second son of an allied country.  Rationally there was no political advantage to such a match, even if Éomer should want it.  And Éomer had never given any indication that he did.</p><p>Unaware of the nature of Faramir’s contemplation, Éomer sat peacefully on the other side of the small fire.  “Your thoughts are far away, Faramir.”  </p><p>Part of him longed to tell Éomer how he felt, to dare hope that his feelings, once revealed, might spark something inside Éomer.  That one day Éomer might willingly, no, <em>eagerly </em>long for his touch, desire his kisses... The heat building in Faramir had nothing to do with his proximity to the fire.  “I find that tonight I am not quite in control of where they wander.”  </p><p>Rather than reply immediately, Éomer held his gaze.  The ache in Faramir’s chest swelled.  If only Éomer would look at him in such a way for very different reasons… </p><p>He stopped the thought as quickly as he could.  No use encouraging his traitorous mind.  </p><p>When he finally spoke, Éomer’s voice was soft, but still carried across the space between them.   “If it is not too bold, may I ask where they lead?”</p><p>“To impossible things.”  Faramir smiled sadly and hoped the words didn’t sound as wistfully painful as they felt.  Éomer’s moss-colored eyes, now dark in the firelight, gazed at him warmly, almost coaxing him to elaborate.  “Things that lead to the pain of disappointment.”</p><p>“And heartache?”</p><p>Faramir nodded.  “Exactly so.”  He smiled and finally dragged his eyes to the fire.  “So, you see, it is best not to think about them.”  He had yet to find a way to follow his own advice.</p><p>“And yet, the heart wants what it wants, no matter how impossible it may seem.”  There was something in Éomer’s voice that made Faramir look up.  “I have been plagued with similar circumstances.”  They stared at each other, but rather than making the situation uncomfortable, the silence seemed to envelop them in an intimate embrace. “It has led to many nights of longing and loneliness.”</p><p>“For...?”  Faramir was grateful for the darkness, or there would have been no hiding the embarrassment at his own impertinence.  “Please forgive me.  Your private thoughts are your own.”</p><p>For the second time, Éomer held his gaze, but there was an intensity in his eyes that hadn’t been there before.  The pounding in his chest sped up as Éomer slowly stood and moved around the fire to sit near him.  “Faramir.”  Éomer paused until he was sure he had Faramir’s full attention.  “I would tell you, and knowing you as I do, I believe you will not hold it against me, should you find my words not to your liking.”</p><p>Faramir turned so they were facing each other.  “We are friends, Éomer.  Friends do not always agree, but yet remain friends.”  Surely Éomer was preparing him for some great revelation; a profession of love, for what else would cause such hesitation?  “Tell me, and I swear I shall still be, as I have ever been.”  Faramir readied a smile and steeled his heart for the blinding pain that would come at the mention of someone else’s name.  </p><p>Éomer nodded and took both of Faramir’s hands in his.  Faramir’s skin tingled where they touched and a thought unbidden, vivid in every detail, of them kneeling before one another professing their love, appeared in his mind.  The pain of unrequited dreams seared his heart, but still he managed to squeeze Éomer’s hands once, lightly, in support.  “Faramir.”  Éomer searched his face.  After a few moments of expectant silence Faramir realized it was all Éomer planned to say.  </p><p>“I… I do not understand.”  He squeezed Éomer’s hands again and tried to piece together the meaning from the hopeful, worried look on his face.</p><p>“Faramir.  What my heart longs for.  <em>Whom </em>my heart longs for.  The person who fills my thoughts both day and night, who makes my heart beat as if a thousand horses were galloping in my chest.”  Éomer smiled, gently pulled a hand from Faramir’s grasp, and caressed the side of Faramir’s face.  </p><p>Could he not see the sincerity with his own eyes, Faramir would swear Éomer purposely withheld the name to torture him.  The caress left him yearning and utterly bemused.  “You may tell me who, without fear that I will gossip.  We <em>are </em>friends, Éomer.”  His voice cracked on the word friends as his heart broke.  “I would never knowingly do anything to cause you pain or embarrassment.”</p><p>Éomer’s laugh was warm and rang out over the stillness of the sleeping camp.  “Faramir, for one so renowned for his wisdom and foresight, in this moment you exhibit neither.”  Éomer leaned in and rested his forehead against Faramir’s.  “<em>Sweetest</em> Faramir, it is <em>you</em> who has stolen my heart.  It is <em>you </em>I yearn for, whose touch I crave, whose kisses I dream of while I lie alone at night.”  </p><p>“I…” Faramir, in spite of his quick-mind, was having difficulty comprehending.  “Me?”  Blinding, desperate hope blazed to life in his heart.  “Éomer.”  His hand shook as he dared to tuck a stray lock of Éomer’s beautiful golden hair behind his ear.  “<em>Dearest</em>.”  </p><p>It was surreal to touch him so intimately, to give voice to silently long-held feelings.  Faramir shook his head in disbelief.  “I dared not hope.”  His voice was barely over a whisper.  He brought Éomer’s hand to his lips and kissed his palm fervently.  Emotions threatened to overwhelm him as he placed the callused hand against his cheek, closed his eyes and leaned into Éomer’s touch.  “I fear I will wake and this will have been a dream; my heart’s most ardent desire played out in my mind as I slept.  Were that the truth, I would rather never wake.”  </p><p>He slowly opened his eyes to Éomer’s beautiful smile.  “I am no dream, Faramir.  We are here, and I swear on my honor, every word I said is true.”</p><p>Giddiness made Faramir bold.  He moved closer so their foreheads were once again pressed together.  “If you truly desire a kiss, my lips are not that far.”  Faramir smiled, hope and anticipation bursting in his chest.  “But take care.  I do not claim a will strong enough to stop with but one.”</p><p>Éomer grinned, head slowly tilting to the side.  “I have been duly warned, and am willing to take the risk.”  </p><p>Éomer’s soft, warm lips gently pressed against his and Faramir’s heart filled to bursting with the sweetness of it.  It was an unhurried kiss, gentle at first, but grew with a passion that stole Faramir’s breath, perfect in every possible way.  As it ended, Faramir, eyes closed, leaned more heavily into Éomer, as if further distance would have been agonizing.  He took slow steady breaths and struggled to regain his equilibrium.  “I have wanted to do that for so very long.”</p><p>He could feel Éomer’s smile and heard it in his voice.  “Have you?”</p><p>Faramir was once again thankful for the darkness that hid his blush.  “Yes.”</p><p>“When did you first know?”</p><p>“The day you and your uncle Theoden came to court and proposed the joint border guard.”  The sudden loss of Éomer’s support was shocking and Faramir’s eyes flew open as he pitched forward precipitously before regaining his balance and settling back on his heels.</p><p>“Three years?”  The surprise on Éomer’s face would have been comical if the truth hadn’t made Faramir mortified.  He could only nod in affirmation.  “Three years!  But… why did you never say anything?”</p><p>“How could I?”  Once again he felt the searing pain of believing his love unrequited.  “How does one tell a good friend that the feelings between them have changed?  Have become… <em>more</em>?  There was no indication on <em>your </em>part that you felt anything but friendship for me.”  Faramir moaned and pressed a hand to his heart.  “No, I could not tell you, though each time we met was the most exquisite torture.  I could be near you, see your handsome face and hear your joyous laughter, and my heart would soar!”  He frowned and shook his head.  “Though I could never touch you.  Not in the way I longed to.”  He eased closer, placed a hand against Éomer’s chest and slowly slid it higher as he continued to speak.  “I could never hold you in my arms.”  Faramir slipped his hand around the back of Éomer’s neck.  “Or be held by you.”  He slid his fingers into the soft strands of Éomer’s hair.  “I could never taste your sweet lips, or…”  Desire made his voice rough.  “Éomer, I have loved you, <em>wanted </em>you for so very long.”  The words were heavy with equal parts pain and desire.  </p><p>Éomer’s eyes darkened and he leaned in.  “Faramir.”  His name, spoken as an intimate caress, made him shiver with need.  “My love, I am yours.  Ever yours. Body and soul.”  </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Into the Woods</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Feelings long held in check surged forth and threatened to overwhelm Faramir.  He ached to repeat the kiss, to press himself against Éomer, to touch him, and be touched in return.  He longed to tell Éomer all he felt; ask when he had learned of his own feelings.  “Éomer...”  A rustle of cloth and muttering from the darkness beyond the firelight interrupted whatever he might have said.  For a perfect moment it had seemed as if, in all the world, it were just the two of them.  But the truth was they were surrounded by the dozen or so men of their respective patrols, any of whom could wake and silently bear witness to what should be a private moment.  They had been lucky to have remained uninterrupted for as long as they had.  Faramir glanced at the shadowy forms of sleeping men just a stone's throw away and sighed.</p><p>Éomer followed his gaze, and without letting go of his hand, or even turning around, he stood, gently pulled Faramir to his feet and backed a few steps in the direction of the treeline.  Faramir opened his mouth to whisper a protest, half-hearted though it might be, but Éomer grinned mischievously and placed a finger against his own lips in an unnecessary reminder of the need for quiet, and continued his backward trek.  </p><p>Faramir raised an eyebrow but nodded, a dubious smile on his face.  To slip away by themselves with no indication of where they had gone was reckless; one could even argue dangerous given the recent increase in orc sightings; but there was no use trying to resist.  He’d been granted his heart’s desire and promised even more.  Éomer’s bold grin was proof he knew the victory was his.  </p><p>As they came to the edge of the sleeping men, Éomer reached down and grabbed his bedroll and pack from the ground.  Faramir bent to do the same, still chastising himself for his impetuous behavior, and his heart for its giddy excitement, and met the open, very alert eyes of Damrod, his second in command.  Faramir froze as if he were a naughty child caught stealing pastries from the kitchen.    </p><p>For his part, Damrod hadn’t moved a muscle, or even changed his breathing.  His gaze flicked to Éomer, and then to the items in his hands, then back to Faramir.  With an almost imperceptible smile, he closed his eyes as if he’d been asleep the whole time.  Faramir breathed a quiet sigh of relief.  Any embarrassment at being discovered was outweighed by the easing of his conscience.  If they were needed, Damrod would know generally where to find them.  </p><p>Faramir grabbed his pack and hurried after Éomer, whose long strides and quick pace had him halfway to the trees before Faramir had even moved.  He lengthened his steps to catch up and they slipped quietly into the forest.  </p><p>Faramir took the lead from there.  His skills in such environments, honed through years spent with the Rangers, allowed them to maintain a slow but steady pace, though there was no clear path.  Faramir followed the natural curves and contours of the ground, heading higher into the trees and kept his eyes open for a place that would provide a bit of privacy as well as safety.  </p><p>A few minutes walk revealed a cluster of pines situated at the start of a gentle slope.  Faramir circled around before finding a section of branches thin enough to push through.  It was a tight squeeze and took some effort, but they eventually stepped into an open pocket within the circle of trees.  It was about two arm lengths across, with a thick carpet of old pine needles covering the ground. </p><p>Éomer settled his pack and shook his head.  “I would have walked past this.”  He held out a hand, eagerly pulling Faramir to him.  “You have found us a perfect location.”  </p><p>Faramir dropped his things next to Éomer’s and stepped in close.  “Not perfect, but as near as we are likely to find in present circumstances.”  </p><p>Éomer laughed.  “Does the son of Denethor speak, or the Captain of the Rangers?”  </p><p>“Both.”  He settled his hands against Éomer’s leather-clad chest.  “It is well concealed so we shall have privacy as well as a modicum of safety.  But though I feel at ease in the woods, had I the luxury to choose,”  he gestured vaguely at the small clearing  “I would have preferred a roof over our heads, and a bed; at the very least a fire to warm us.”  He grinned and nudged Éomer.  “I suppose the Rohirrim do not want for such foolish things.”</p><p>Éomer leaned down and gently brushed the tip of his nose against Faramir’s jaw.  The gesture was subtle and intimate, and sent a flush of renewed arousal through him.  “My heart, if we had a roof I could not see your beautiful face bathed in the soft glow of moonlight.”  Soft kisses along his throat followed.  Faramir closed his eyes and slipped his fingers into Éomer’s hair.  “Nor would a bed likely offer so soft a place to lay as these pines have provided.”  Images of entwined bodies and soft moans of pleasure filled Faramir’s thoughts.  He gripped Éomer’s shoulder for support. “And there is no need of a fire, for I promise we shall keep each other warm.”  </p><p>A low moan slipped past Faramir’s lips.  “Thoughts of you have kept me warm many nights.”  </p><p>He felt Éomer’s mouth curve into a smile against his skin.  “Tell me.”  </p><p>To speak aloud his most ardent desires, to reveal all that he felt for Éomer, all that he yearned for, was daunting, but Faramir was no coward and Éomer was no stranger.  They had been friends for years and familiar acquaintances before that.  Three years of quiet pining, Éomer’s declared affections, and the gentle nibbling along his neck made Faramir bold.  He let the images fill his mind.  “Your body presses close, perfectly fitted to mine.”  Éomer hummed encouragingly.  “Our bodies drenched with sweat after hours of making love, though neither are ready to surrender to sleep.  Your strong arms hold me tenderly, pulling me back against your chest.”  Éomer tightened his arms around Faramir, his evident arousal pressed firmly against Faramir’s own.  Words came to a halt as every part of Faramir’s body begged for more touch and less talk.  </p><p>The deep, warm tones of Éomer’s voice cut through the lust filled fog in his mind, teasing as exquisitely as a lover’s caress.  “And then?  I would hear more, my love, so that I might learn how to please you.”  </p><p>Aroused and aching beyond reason, Faramir moaned and opened his eyes to see Éomer’s, almost black with desire, reflecting back a need as powerful as his own.  He slowly turned and pressed his back to him.  “Your left hand is here.” He took Éomer’s left hand and placed it at the base of his own throat.  Éomer’s breath stuttered as he exhaled shakily against Faramir’s ear. He could feel him trembling.  To know he excited such a response in Éomer left him equal parts breathless and bold enough to continue.  “Your right, at first pressed against my chest,”  Faramir took Éomer’s other hand and placed the palm against his body.  “slides lower, so slowly I fear I might lose my senses.”  
  </p><p>Éomer moaned and slid his right hand down Faramir’s torso. “Like this?”   Faramir nodded, excruciatingly aware of its progress.  Faramir nodded, excruciatingly aware of its progress.  Éomer gave a gentle nudge behind his knees and they dropped together to the soft forest floor.  “And then?”  Éomer growled the words against Faramir’s neck.  
  </p><p>Faramir’s knees splayed wide, the laces of his pants straining with pressure.  It was vulgar and vulnerable and he required several moments before he could do more than gasp shallowly and try not to embarrass himself.  Éomer’s hand had reached his abdomen.  Faramir closed his eyes and struggled to master himself.  Then he felt the progression of Éomer’s hand across his abdomen.  Faramir closed his eyes and struggled for self-control.  When he did finally speak his voice was hoarse and shaky.  “Your lips, just as they are now, caress my neck, teeth scraping my skin.”  Éomer bit gently where his shoulder met the base of his neck, and Faramir groaned loudly.  “Sweet mercy!”  He reached back and slid his fingers into Éomer’s silky hair, gripping firmly.  “You will be the death of me.”</p><p>Éomer rolled his hips against him and Faramir gasped.  “Then I will endeavor to make your final hours as blissful as possible.”  Through the haze of pleasure Faramir felt the loss of Éomer’s touch followed by a gentle tugging at his sword belt.  “My love, I think we are safe, and I would feel your skin against mine.”  </p><p>The words were all the impetus required.  Faramir clambered to his feet even as he unbuckled his belt.  Mere seconds passed before he tossed it aside with his sword, and began removing his cuirass and pauldrons.  Éomer chuckled and stood, first seeing to their bedrolls before deftly removing the many layers of his own armor and clothing until they were both down to pants and shirtsleeves.  </p><p>Éomer swept his shirt over his head and caught Faramir around the waist.  There was the barest glimpse of skin before Faramir was turned and once again pulled back against Éomer’s broad chest.  Warm hands slid beneath Faramir’s shirttails and soft lips pressed against his temple in a gentle kiss.  “May I?”  </p><p>Faramir, heart hammering in his chest, could only nod.  Éomer’s strong, calloused hands slid along his body, slowly pushing the soft fabric higher.  The anticipation was beyond comprehension.  Faramir <em>ached</em>.  He had never wanted anyone so desperately in all his life.  As the shirt bunched beneath his arms, he raised his hands to allow its removal, and would have turned around, but Éomer pulled him close once again, his hands returning to his throat and chest.  “Perhaps this is nearer to your imaginings?”</p><p>There was nothing in Faramir’s world but Éomer; the feel of his strong hands, the soft exhales of breath against his neck, his body, firm and warm pressed against him.  It was exquisite torture, utter perfection, and yet he greedily wanted more.  “Yes, nearer, but not enough.”  </p><p>Éomer’s wicked chuckle made Faramir’s heart race.  “Then tell me, my love.  What should come next?”</p><p>“Éomer.”  There was a tortured tone to his voice.  “Have pity.”  He leaned his head back against Éomer’s shoulder, and a sound somewhere between a moan and a whine flowed from his lips.  “Would you have me beg?”  </p><p>“Mmmmmm.  The thought is arousing.”  Éomer dropped a hand to the laces of Faramir’s trousers and slowly undid them as he murmured into his ear.  “To know you so fervently desire my touch.”  Faramir squeezed his eyes closed and strained for composure.  “To hear the need in your voice and feel the trembling of your body.”  Éomer placed his hand flat against Faramir’s abdomen and slid it lower.  “All for want of <em>me</em>.”</p><p>All reasoned thought fled as Éomer’s hand slid beneath the fabric of his pants and wrapped around him, each firm stroke exquisite torture.  “Éomer,”  Faramir’s voice broke as he arched into Éomer’s fist, unable to resist the urge to thrust.  “Éomer, my love.”</p><p>“Faramir, my heart of hearts, what would you have me do?”  </p><p>He burned with desire and his body ached for release.  “Everything.”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Sleep is for the Weak</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“Many nights have I pleasured myself, imagining the unspeakable things you would do to me, or I to you.”  Shamelessly, Faramir thrust into Éomer’s grip, pleasure building with each roll of his hips, Éomer’s answering counterpoint at his back.  “Finding my release with your name on my lips;” he could feel the ragged breath at his temple and the hand at his throat pressed harder.  “Biting them bloody so as not to wake my men.”  He felt Éomer tremble and it was intoxicating.  It all but undid him.  Faramir squeezed his eyes shut and, with great effort, grasped Éomer’s wrist and stilled his hand.  “My love, you have me close.”  His voice was strained and he forced out a soft laugh.  “Tomorrow…”  He didn’t want to think about tomorrow and parting company.  “We have tonight together, and I would do more with you than this.”</p>
<p>The night air cooled his hot skin as he let his trousers drop to the forest floor.  He stepped out of them and turned to face Éomer, wrapped his arms around him and pressed a soft kiss to his lips, thrumming with the pleasure of skin against skin.  He kissed Éomer a second time, softly, slowly, thoroughly, learning the feel of his mouth, and enjoyed the answering exploration.  Again, and again, their lips met, every time better than the last; each one drawing him back for more as if his very life depended on it.  “I shall never tire of your lips.”  Éomer pulled him hard against his body and trailed fingertips down his back.  Faramir moaned against his mouth.  “Or your touch.”  </p>
<p>Éomer wrapped his fingers in Faramir’s hair and pulled deliciously.  “Nor I yours.  You set my blood racing.  I feel as if I have spent my life half-asleep and only now fully awakened by your touch.”  </p>
<p>Faramir slid his hands over every part of Éomer he could reach, feeling each scar, every muscle and contour, reveling in the warmth beneath his palms, because this was Éomer; <em>his </em>Éomer whom he could touch and hold and kiss until their lips were bruised and their bodies were on fire.  “My love.”  Faramir, voice heavy with need, hand shaking as it snaked between them, gently cupped Éomer through the fabric of his trousers.  A wave of pure lust buffeted him as his hand encountered a growing damp spot. “Éomer.”  Faramir closed his eyes and steadied himself against the firm chest beneath his palms. “I would taste you, feel you heavy on my tongue.”  Faramir brazenly reached for the ties at Éomer’s waist.  “If that pleases you.”</p>
<p>Éomer moaned, crushed him against his chest and buried his face in Faramir’s raven hair.  “You will undo me with words alone.”  His voice shook and he took several breaths before he pulled back and met Faramir’s gaze, eyes nearly black with desire.  “Do as you will, for my body is yours.”  </p>
<p>Lust and excitement washed through him again.  “Only your body?”  Faramir grinned teasingly.</p>
<p>“My body, my heart, my very soul is yours, Faramir.”  Éomer cupped his face with his hands and gazed at him with such intensity it stole Faramir’s breath.  “For as long as you want them.”</p>
<p><em>Forever</em>.  The thought almost slipped past his lips.  There was no doubt Éomer meant every word, and as each was spoken all Faramir’s nervousness dissipated.  “As mine are yours, my love.  Ever, only yours.”  Faramir slid his hands down Éomer’s sides, then forward to the laces of his trousers.  He undid them with steady hands, and pushed the cloth over Éomer’s hips before moving back two paces.  Éomer stepped out of the tangle of fabric and made to follow, but Faramir held up a halting hand.  “Please.”  He grinned, feeling the new ease of the moment, hungry eyes devouring every inch of him.  With great reluctance, Faramir pulled his eyes up to Éomer’s.  “Have pity, and allow me a moment to clearly see that which I have only imagined.”  Éomer smirked and held his arms open in acquiescence.</p>
<p>He was tall, even for one of the Rohirrim, with wide, muscular shoulders, and a broad, chiseled chest covered in battle scars and thick blond hair that tapered to a thin line as it trailed over his tightly muscled abdomen.  His trim hips topped powerful thighs the size of tree trunks, and Faramir ached to feel them wrapped tightly around his hips.  Everything about him was imposing.  “You are magnificent.”  </p>
<p>The pine needles cushioned Faramir as he dropped to his knees and beckoned Éomer closer.  He placed his palms against the muscular thighs and gazed up at him.  Éomer, mouth slightly parted, nodded mutely.  With great care, eyes never straying from his, Faramir brushed his lips along the silky warmth of his skin, and whispered,  “I have dreamt of this.”  He reveled in the utterly wrecked look on Éomer’s face.  </p>
<p>Éomer slipped his fingers into Faramir’s hair.  “As have I.  This, and more.”  </p>
<p>The rush of arousal made Faramir inhale deeply; <em>musk, clean sweat, horse</em>; it combined to fill him with a scent that would forever remind him of Éomer.  He smiled wickedly and slowly licked his lips, making them wet.  Éomer’s eyes locked on his mouth, the intensity of his gaze intoxicating, and Faramir was left breathless by the rush of power thrumming in his veins.  He brushed his parted lips against Éomer’s prick, let the very tip of his tongue taste his skin, and slowly dragged his mouth upward.  As he reached the tip he hesitated, watched the way Éomer seemed to hold his breath, then slowly slipped him between his parted lips.  Gently, Éomer’s trembling hands cupped the back of his head; not pressing, but present.  “Faramir.”  It was a prayer and a plea, and Faramir would refuse him nothing.  With great care, he used his lips and tongue, stroked and sucked, focused on Éomer’s gasps and sighs, fingers gently exploring to learn what would give him the greatest pleasure.  “Faramir...”  </p>
<p>Beneath his palms, Éomer’s muscles were tense, straining; the scent of fresh pine mixed with the  tang of arousal filled his nose; rough gasps and heavy breathing filled his ears, making Faramir’s own body ache impossibly.  He ignored his own needs, took his time, touched and teased, pulled strangled sounds from Éomer with every stroke of his mouth, until the grip on the back of his head became almost painful, and the taste of him was heavy on his tongue.  Faramir pulled away and finally let Éomer slip from between his lips.  He sat back on his heels and looked up at him, a magnificent warrior silhouetted against the full moon.  “Éomer, please.”  His voice was hoarse and full of need.</p>
<p>Éomer groaned as if he were being tortured.  “Please what, my heart?  You have but to name it and I swear I will do as you bid.”</p>
<p>“Be with me.”  Faramir pushed himself to his feet.  He took Éomer’s hand and led him to the bedrolls, pulled him down until they were stretched out, skin to skin.  “Éomer.”  Faramir propped himself up on his elbow, cupped Éomer’s face in the palm of his hand and gently kissed him.  “I would lie with you, as intimately as two people may; as one flesh.”  He searched Éomer’s face for a reaction, unsure if that was something he enjoyed.  “If the thought is not to your liking, there are many ways to bring each other pleasure, and I would eagerly do those with you.”  He stroked Éomer’s cheek and kissed him again.  “But if it <em>is</em> to your liking…”</p>
<p>Éomer’s response was a low throaty growl.  “It is most definitely to my liking.”  His gaze devoured Faramir with such intensity it made him ache all the more.  “Have you a preference?”</p>
<p>“No.  I enjoy giving as much as receiving pleasure in most ways of the flesh.”  He reached out and brushed his fingertips along Éomer’s length.  “You are…” His voice was heavy with desire as he openly admired Éomer.  “... formidable.” </p>
<p>Brow furrowed, Éomer cupped his jaw and tilted his head up to meet his eyes.  “I would sooner rip out my heart than hurt you, my love.  If it pleases you, I would happily give myself to you.”</p>
<p>At another time he might have teased Éomer, though he cherished him for his concern. With difficulty he hid his smile.  “Truly, my love, I am at ease with whatever you find most comfortable.  If it worries you overmuch, we may follow your suggestion.  Or continue as we were, with hands and mouths, bringing each other pleasure in that way.” Faramir placed his hand against Éomer’s thigh and slowly slid it higher.  “But hear me, my love.”  He poured his very soul into his words, willing Éomer to hear, and believe.  “I have burned for your touch for three very long years; Imagined, in dizzying detail, your kiss, your lover’s touch, how you would feel joined with me as one, all the while knowing with heartbreaking certainty that my imaginings were all I would ever have.”  He shook his head, still amazed by the reality.  “Yet here we are.  You return my affections and desires with equal fervor, have offered me everything I have longed for.”  He pushed Éomer backward and swung over him, straddling his hips.  “I would lie with you,”  He slowly leaned forward and braced his hands on either side of Éomer’s face, staring intently into his eyes.  “feel your body around and in me, offer you my heart and soul and anything else you would take.”  He kissed Éomer with exquisite tenderness.  “Because I love you, and because I desire you above all others, in every way imaginable.”</p>
<p>The groan Éomer released could have been heard in Minas Tirith.  “I can deny you nothing.  I am truly yours to command.”  And yet, Éomer’s concern lingered.  “If you are sure.”</p>
<p>Faramir slid his fingers into Éomer’s hair and kissed him hungrily.  “I have never been more sure of anything.”    </p>
<p>With another growl Éomer wrapped his arms around him and in one swift movement rolled them so Faramir was beneath him.  “Then I shall endeavor to be gentle.”</p>
<p>Kiss followed kiss, caress after caress, mouths and hands greedy, full of need, exploring and discovering; with every declaration of love and whispered oath of passion, a strange change took place.  Éomer the lover, and Éomer the dear friend, who had been two separate thoughts in Faramir’s mind, became Éomer, his lover and friend, united in one beautiful being.  It was startling, but left a full, happy feeling of rightness in Faramir’s heart.  He felt sure-footed again, at ease.  “Gentle is an acceptable start,”  He caressed slow circles over Éomer’s hips and thighs, brazenly grinned up at him.  “But do not mistake prudence for fragility.  I am no delicate blossom, easily damaged.”</p>
<p>Éomer stared down at him incredulously, then he returned his grin.  Faster than Faramir had ever expected him to move, Éomer pinned his wrists over his head, pressing them against the ground with one hand.  Faramir caught his breath as Éomer leaned down until their faces were only inches apart, a wide wolfish grin on his face.  “It gladdens my heart to hear it.”</p>
<p>Faramir’s own heart was hammering wildly in his chest and he burned for Éomer’s touch.  He moaned and writhed beneath him.  “Love, please.” </p>
<p>“Please what?”  </p>
<p>The utter mischief in Éomer’s face made him laugh and ache all the more, and it was an odd feeling.  He had never had a lover who made him laugh in such intimate circumstances.  He found he quite liked it; far more than he would have imagined.  He grinned back and rolled his hips against Éomer, very willing to follow his lead.  “Have pity!  I believe three years is long enough to wait.”</p>
<p>“And whose fault is that?”  Éomer growled the words against his neck and bit down hard enough it might leave a mark for a few days.  “Surely not mine.”</p>
<p>Farmir moaned and tugged at Éomer’s grasp, wanting his hands free to touch, reveling in the familiar banter they had always shared before.  “I had no idea you would appreciate my interest!”</p>
<p>Éomer stopped at that, and gave him such an earnest look it made Faramir’s heart ache.  “And for that I am truly sorry.  You should never feel unwanted; unloved, and it wounds me sorely to think that you felt so by my doing.”  Éomer caressed Faramir’s cheek, watching him intently.  “I think neither of us gives our heart lightly.”  He seemed to come to a decision and Faramir held his breath, the air prickling with intensity, charged with the power of promise.  “Hear me now, Faramir, son of Denethor.  I love you.  You have my heart, my soul, the very essence of me, until such time as you no longer wish it, knowing I shall give it to no other after.”</p>
<p>The words settled over him, sunk into his skin, and filled him with brilliance and light.  “As you have mine until I no longer draw breath.”  He leaned up and kissed Éomer with a fierceness he’d never felt for any other lover.  He settled back against the bedding, looked up at Éomer, and tugged at his hands, frustrated and the start and stop, eager to have more.  “I fear that shall happen long ere we manage to fumble our way through this debacle.”  </p>
<p>Éomer momentarily looked stunned, and then his laughter rang out through the wood.  “If we continue as we are, I fear you are not wrong.”  He got control of himself and looked down at Faramir, still sprawled naked beneath him.  His eyes were hungry and Faramir felt his answering need.  “Let us wait no longer, my heart.”  Éomer rolled away and dug in his pack, extracting a small jar before rolling back.  The unmistakable scent of beeswax, and fish oil wafted into the air as the jar was unstoppered.</p>
<p>“Dubbin?” Faramir smirked and raised an eyebrow.</p>
<p>“If you have a better suggestion, here in the middle of the woods, I am at your command.”  Éomer gave him a teasing look.  “Though I would be greatly shocked.  I do not believe either of us anticipated this... particular situation.”  He grinned and scooped out a bit of the thick mixture.  “I will endeavor to be better prepared in the future.”</p>
<p>Éomer leaned down and kissed him slowly, letting the pleasure build once again.  Faramir wove his fingers into Éomer’s silky hair, answering the kiss hungrily, and gasped as Éomer’s fingers wrapped around him, grip firm but gliding easily with each stroke.  “As will I.  Ohhh!  That is…”  He could feel the shocked look on his face.  “surprisingly very good.”  </p>
<p>“Mmmm.  You will be as supple as my leather saddle.”  Faramir felt Éomer’s grin against his lips, considered a snarky response and chose instead to stop thinking at all.  He gave himself over to the pleasure of firm strokes and sensual kisses; moaned under the exquisite explorations of strong hands and nimble fingers.  He returned all with equal ardor until they were both sweat drenched and achingly hard.  </p>
<p>It was in a pleasure-filled haze that he felt the initial press of Éomer against him.  Faramir wrapped his arms around Éomer’s body and exhaled deeply as he pushed forward and their bodies became one.  He gripped Éomer’s shoulders and closed his eyes.  “A moment, my love.”  Éomer stilled and Faramir exhaled again, allowing his body a moment to adjust to his girth.  </p>
<p>In unhurried tenderness, Éomer held him, caressed his hair and placed soft kisses against his closed eyes, then to both cheeks and finally his lips.  “You are so beautiful, my heart.”  Faramir smiled, chest filled to bursting with love, and felt Éomer lower himself until they were chest to chest, foreheads pressed together.  “Are you well?  I have not hurt you?”  </p>
<p>Faramir could hear the concern in Éomer’s voice and shook his head.  “No.”  He slowly opened his eyes to the sweetest look of worry he had ever seen.  He stroked Éomer’s cheek and kissed him softly, felt the tension in the muscles under his palms.  “You have not hurt me, my love.”  He felt his body relax and gently rolled his hips, smiling more broadly at Éomer’s gasped response.  “Please.”</p>
<p>The word elicited the hoped for chuckle from Éomer.  “Please what, my heart?”</p>
<p>“Move.”  Faramir rolled his hips as he spoke.  Éomer’s mouth dropped open and his eyes squeezed closed.  There was the barest of pauses and then Éomer was in motion, hips undulating against him in a sweet, steady rhythm.  Faramir gripped the back of Éomer’s neck, holding him in place, forehead to forehead.  He lost himself in the building pleasure of their bodies and the potent intimacy of the moment as everything else faded away.  There was nothing outside the circle of Éomer’s embrace; no duty, no country, no empty yearning for what could never be. There was only Éomer, filling his heart as he filled his body; a toe curling pleasure the likes of which he’d never before felt, and a need for Éomer, so profound it left him breathless.  He rocked up into Éomer’s embrace, felt his answering desire in each thrust of his hips, and overwhelming love in each whisper of his name.  </p>
<p>They touched, caressed, answered kiss for kiss; some so soft and achingly sweet, so full of love it hurt; others hard and ravenous, all teeth and tongues, turbulent with lust.  They were loud, gasping with pleasure, moaning and grunting as hips thrust against hips.  Time and again Éomer brought him to the brink, his body taut with tension, shaking with need, and time and again, Éomer eased him back, keeping sweet release just out of his grasp.  They were both drenched in sweat, hearts hammering.  He had lost track of time and thought he might lose his mind as well with the intensity of it all.   “Éomer, <em>please</em>.  My love, I beg you.”  He spoke as if each thrust of their hips forced a few more words from his lips.  “Please.  Please.”  Their foreheads were still pressed close and Faramir stroked his face.  “I ache.  I need.  <em>Please</em>, love.  Give me my release.”</p>
<p>Éomer smiled and kissed him slowly.  “For you?  Anything.”  Faramir gasped as Éomer’s hips snapped forward.  He set a blistering pace, pleasure mounting in leaps and bounds, catapulting him towards the edge.  “Now, love.  Let go.”  It was as if Faramir’s body had only been waiting for permission.  He hurled over the precipice, light exploding behind his eyes as his body spasmed, muscles clenched in almost painful release.  He heard Éomer’s shout in his ear, felt him stiffen and convulse, finding his own resolution only moments later.  </p>
<p>They both collapsed onto the bedroll, Éomer’s full weight on him, until each had caught their breath.  Éomer tried to move but Faramir wrapped his arms more tightly around him and held him in place. “No. Please.”</p>
<p>“I am crushing you.”  Faramir could hear the tired amusement in his voice, but refused to let go.  His weight was comforting, calming.  Éomer laughed and tried again to move, Faramir only allowing him to push up onto his elbows.  He gently stroked Faramir’s face, brushing the sweat drenched hair from his skin.  “I won’t go far.”  Faramir nodded and Éomer kissed his forehead and slowly eased back.  </p>
<p>He moaned as his body adjusted to the withdrawal.  An odd feeling of loss filled him, as though he were no longer whole.  He knew it would be so until Éomer was with him again, their bodies joined as one.  He started to speak but the words died on his lips as Éomer turned to dig in his pack.  Long red score marks criss crossed the pale skin of his back, and Faramir flushed, though in pride or shame he could not tell.  “Oh, love, I…”</p>
<p>Éomer turned back, water skein and clean rag in each hand.  He caught Faramir’s look and hesitated.  “Are you… did I hurt you?”</p>
<p>The heat of his embarrassment threatened to consume him.  “I fear it is I who have hurt you.”  He gestured to Éomer’s back.  “I have…  I’m sorry.  I…”</p>
<p>“Scratches?”  Éomer sat next to him and poured water onto the cloth.  “Yes.  I know.”  He  grinned broadly, and Faramir thought he saw a flash of pride on his face.  “It may be days before they disappear.”  He seemed utterly unbothered and Faramir was at a loss, absently submitting to Éomer’s gentle ministrations.  A damp cloth was set against his cheek, wiped away the sticky sweat on his face before moving to his neck and chest, then lower, washing away the visible evidence of their lovemaking.  </p>
<p>Faramir wasn’t used to marking his partners.  It wasn’t necessarily something he liked or needed, and embarrassment at his lack of control rushed through him.  “I apologize, Éomer. I had not known I was...”</p>
<p>The words made Éomer’s pupils expand and the grin became more feral.  “Marking me?”  He stared at Faramir, as if daring him to choose a different word.  “Yes.” </p>
<p>Éomer smiled with such pride Faramir could not help but laugh.  “Well, I am thankful that I did not hurt you overly much, and that you are not displeased.”</p>
<p>“Displeased?”  He leaned in and stole a kiss.  “Were it summer on the plains, I might remain shirtless until your marks fade.”</p>
<p><em>His marks.</em>  It gave him more than a little rush of possessive pleasure.  Faramir laughed.  “It is not summer, nor are we on the plains.  And your armor would chafe terribly with no shirt.”  The thought of Éomer galloping shirtless across the grasslands, powerful body at one with the horse beneath him, beautiful golden hair flowing behind him majestically, was enough to give Faramir thoughts of reprising their recent activities, even though his exhausted body could not yet rally.  Éomer had produced another clean cloth from his pack and Faramir took it and the water, washing him as he had been washed, taking extra care to cleans the broken skin.  “They should clear well enough, and not leave lasting marks.”  He leaned forward and softly kissed the red welts then rested his forehead between Éomer’s broad shoulders.  He was bone weary and could not stifle a yawn.  He felt as well as heard Éomer’s chuckle.</p>
<p>“Come here, my love, and lie down.”  Éomer turned and pulled Faramir to him.  “We shall get what sleep we can ere the sun rises and we return to camp.”  They laid down on the side-by-side bedrolls and pulled the blankets over them.  Faramir allowed himself to be moved this way and that until they were settled; Éomer looking up at the clear night sky, Faramir tucked against his side, head cradled in the crook of Éomer’s shoulder, wrapped comfortably in his arms.  </p>
<p>They woke somewhere not long before dawn, and made love again, softly, quietly, knowing the time they had was limited.  Morning would break and they would be forced to leave the confines of their nest in the circle of the trees, go back to camp, and part ways soon after.  Neither spared a thought for lack of sleep, focused only on their shared need to touch and be touched.  </p>
<p>Faramir had collapsed across Éomer’s chest, tired but sated, and waited for his breathing to settle.  Éomer’s arms were wrapped around his shoulders and his fingers were drawing light circles against his skin.  He had just started to doze when he heard the whistle.  He groaned and pressed his face to Éomer’s chest before he reluctantly pushed himself upright.  The call sounded again, and Faramir took a breath, answering in turn.  </p>
<p>He rubbed his eyes and smiled down at Éomer, sprawled beneath him in sleepy, glorious, debauched gratification.  His mass of tangled hair and half lidded eyes were temptation enough, but he stretched and groaned softly, working knots out of stiff muscles, beautiful in his nakedness.  Faramir could only breathe deeply and shake his head.  Éomer, fully aware of what he was doing, grinned up at him.  “Was that Damrod’s call?”</p>
<p>“Yes.”  He could no more keep himself from trailing his fingertips across Éomer’s skin as he could halt his need of breath.  Touching him was a need now, and he would feel his absence keenly.  “Camp will be stirring.  We should return.”  </p>
<p>The feeling with which the words were delivered lacked enthusiasm.  Éomer reached up and slid his fingers through Faramir’s dark hair.  “We should.  Though I am loath to do so.”  </p>
<p>“As am I.”  Faramir smiled forlornly.  “I <em>am </em>thankful we had what time we did, but I would have more.  It is not enough.”  </p>
<p>Éomer sat up and held him close.  “I will think of you every day we are apart.”  </p>
<p>The whistle sounded again.  Faramir sighed and nodded, then pushed himself to his feet and held out his hand to Éomer, hauling him up.  He responded to Damrod with a few short trills and reached for their clothes, handing Éomer his pants and pulling on his own.  “May that be sooner than I anticipate.  We must both head home, and fate only knows where our Lords will send us next.”  Éomer nodded and they finished dressing in resigned silence.  They pushed their way out of the circle of pines and walked back through the woods, palm to palm, hands grasped tightly.</p>
<p>By unspoken agreement they stopped when they were in sight of the forest’s edge.  They dropped their packs and Faramir stepped close, turned his face up and met Éomer’s ready lips in a farewell kiss.  “Be well, my love.”</p>
<p>Éomer caressed his cheek.  “And you, my heart.”</p>
<p>There was naught else to say, so they stepped back, shouldered their packs and walked out of the woods.  </p>
<p>Camp was a flurry of morning activities.  Greetings sounded as they approached, but otherwise everything was normal.  Faramir glanced at Éomer who shrugged and grinned.</p>
<p>“We’ll be ready to mount up and ride in a quarter of an hour, Captain.”  Damrod nodded to both and handed each a steaming mug of tea then turned and walked back into the bustling camp.  </p>
<p>Éomer took a tentative sip from his mug and winced as the hot liquid scalded his lip.  “It would seem we were not missed.”</p>
<p>Faramir nodded. “There were no issues, apparently, so no need to miss us.  That is a good thing.”  He held his mug between his hands, warming them.  He pitched his voice low so only Éomer would hear.  “I do not mind.”  He glanced at Éomer and his heart swelled with emotion.  “I am not ready to share you or our night together, even in that simple way.”</p>
<p>Éomer looked as if he would respond, but held back.  In the end he took another sip of tea and nodded.  “I would not have the men gossip. This is no momentary distraction; something to gibe or tease about.”  He glanced around camp.  “What we shared last night,”  the emotion in his voice went straight to Faramir’s heart, easing a tension he had no idea was there;  “... my feelings for you, are a very serious matter to me.”  He held Faramir’s gaze.  “I would speak with my uncle about you; about us.”</p>
<p>Faramir’s eyes widened and his heart hammered in his chest.  “Would you?”</p>
<p>“Why not?  I do not think he would object to strengthening ties with Gondor.”  Éomer went a bit pale.  “Would Denethor?”  </p>
<p>Faramir quickly shook his head.  “I am a second son, and not his favorite.  What I would choose in that regard would be of little importance to him, as long as there was some political or military advantage to it.  I believe Boromir will not be so lucky, but he seems to know and not mind.”  He looked down at his tea and then back to Éomer.  “If you are sure, I would also speak with my father.”  </p>
<p>Éomer’s eyes sparkled in the morning light and Faramir caught his breath. “Do. Yes.  Perhaps we might come to some agreement soon, plan a celebration for summer.”  Éomer stepped closer.  “I would not wait, were it my choice.”</p>
<p>Faramir felt dizzied by the swiftness with which his life had changed.  “Nor I.”  </p>
<p>He would have said more but Damrod approached and gave them an apologetic look.  “At your command, Captain.”</p>
<p>Faramir nodded to Damrod and looked at Éomer, held his gaze and hoped he conveyed all that he could not say.  “Be well, Éomer, and may we meet again soon, with good news to share.”</p>
<p>“Be well, Faramir.”  More quietly he murmured, “You take my heart with you.  Guard it well.”</p>
<p>Faramir grinned.  “I will, and trust you to keep mine safe.”  With that he turned and walked to his waiting horse, mounted in one smooth motion, not spilling a drop of tea, and grinned at Éomer.  As he downed the drink and put the mug in his pack he thought he heard Éomer’s voice.  </p>
<p>“We will make a Rohirrim of you yet.”</p>
<p>Faramir whistled once and as one his men turned their horses to the trail and headed West toward Minas Tirith, and home.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Sorry this last chapter took so long.  Wow is it challenging writing smut while trying to keep close to the source material language!  But it is now complete.  I am considering two more one chapter additions which are further into the timeline.  If that interests you please let me know, and thank you for reading!!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
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